1. The appearances by which the mind of man is smitten with the first aspect of a thing as it approaches the soul, are not matters of the will, nor can we control them; but by a certain force of their own the objects which we have to comprehend are borne in upon us. But that ratification of them, which we name a.s.sent, whereby the appearances are comprehended and judged, these are voluntary, and are done by human choice. Wherefore at a sound from the heavens, or from the downfall of something, or some signal of danger, or anything else of this kind, it must needs be that the soul of the philosopher too shall be somewhat moved, and he shall shrink and grow pale; not through any opinion of evil that he has formed, but through certain rapid and unconsidered motions that forestall the office of the mind and reason. Soon, however, that philosopher doth not approve the appearances to be truly objects of terror to his soul, that is to say, he a.s.sents not to them nor ratifies them; but he rejects them, and casts them out; nor doth there seem to be in them anything that he should fear. But in this, say the philosophers, doth the wise man differ from the fool,-that the fool thinks the appearances to be in truth even so harsh and rough as they seemed at their first shock upon the soul; and taking them, as at first, to be rightly dreaded, he thus ratifies and approves them by his a.s.sent.
The philosopher, however, though for a short time his color and countenance have been changed, doth not then a.s.sent, but he retains in its steadfastness and vigor the opinion he ever had of these appearances, that they are in no wise to be feared, but affright only by a false show and empty threat.
2. Such as is a dish of water, such is the soul; such as is the ray of light that falleth on the same, such are the appearances. When the water is moved, then the ray seemeth also to be moved; but it is not moved.
And thus when a man"s mind is darkened and dizzy, it is not doctrines and virtues that are confounded, but the spirit on which they are impressed. And if that is restored, so are they.[2]
CHAPTER VII.
APPEARANCES FALSE AND TRUE.
1. Appearances exist for us in four ways. Either things appear even as they are; or having no existence, neither do they appear to have it; or they exist, and appear not; or they exist not, and yet appear. So, in all these cases, to hit the mark is the work of him who hath been taught in philosophy.
2. But whatever it be that afflicts us, it is to that thing that the remedy is to be applied. If it is the sophisms of the Pyrrhonists and Academics[1] that afflict us, to them let us apply the remedy. If it is the delusiveness of things, whereby that appeareth to be good which is not so, to that let us seek for the remedy. If a habit afflicts us, against that must we endeavor to find some remedy. And what remedy is to be found against a habit? The contrary habit. Thou hearest the ignorant when they say, _The wretched man is dead; his father is perishing with grief for him, or his mother; he was cut off, yea, and untimely, and in a strange land_. Hearken, then, to the contrary words. Tear thyself away from such utterances. Against habit set the contrary habit. Against the words of the Sophists have the maxims of philosophers and the exercise and constant usage of them; against the delusiveness of things have clear natural conceptions ever burnished and ready.
3. Whenever death may appear to be an evil, have ready the thought that it is right to avoid evils, and that death is unavoidable. For what shall I do? whither shall I flee from it? Let it be granted that I am no Sarpedon, son of Zeus, to speak in that lofty style: _I go either to do great deeds myself, or to give another the chance of doing them; though I myself fail I shall not grudge it to another to do n.o.bly_.[2] Let it be granted that this is above us; still can we not at least rise to the height of that? And whither shall I flee from death? declare to me the place; declare to me the men among whom I shall go, to whom death comes never near; declare to me the charms against it. If I have none, what would ye have me do? I cannot escape death-shall I not then escape the fear of death? shall I die lamenting and trembling? In this is the source of suffering, to wish for something, and that it should not come to pa.s.s; and thence it is that when I am able to alter outward things at my desire, I do so, but when not, I am ready to tear out the eyes of him that hindereth me. For man is so made by nature that he will not bear to be deprived of the Good nor to fall into the Evil. And in the end, when I am neither able to alter outward things nor to tear out the eyes of him that hindereth me, I sit down and groan and rail on whomsoever I can, Zeus and the other G.o.ds;-for if they neglect me, what have I to do with them? _Yea, but thou wilt be an impious man._ And how shall I be worse off than I am now? Here is the whole matter: Remember that unless religion and profit meet in the same thing, religion cannot be saved in any man. Do not these things mightily convince of their truth?
4. Let the Pyrrhonist and the Academic come and make their attack-I, for my part, have no leisure for such discussions, nor am I able to argue in defense of general consent.[3] For if I had a suit about a little piece of land, would I not call in another to argue for me?
Wherewith shall I be satisfied? With that which concerns the matter in hand. How perception takes place, whether by the whole man or by parts, perhaps I know not how to declare: both opinions perplex me. But that thou and I are not the same I know very clearly. _Whence know you this?_ Never, when I wish to eat, do I carry the morsel to another man"s mouth, but to my own. Never, when I wish to take a piece of bread, do I lay hold of a broom, but I always go to the bread, as to a mark. And ye who deny the truth of perception, what do ye other than I? Which of you, desiring to go to the bath, ever went into a mill? _What then? Ought we not, according to our abilities, to busy ourselves with the upholding of general consent, and raising defenses against all that opposeth the same?_ And who denies it? But let him do it that can, that hath leisure; but he that trembleth, and is troubled, and his heart is broken within him, let him spend his time on something different.
CHAPTER VIII.
HOW WE SHOULD THINK AS G.o.d"S OFFSPRING.
1. If those things are true which are said by philosophers concerning the kinship of G.o.d and men, what else remains for men to do than after Socrates" way, who never, when men inquired of him what was his native country, replied _Athens_ or _Corinth_, but _the universe_. For why wilt thou say thou art an Athenian, and not rather name thyself from that nook alone into which thy wretched body was cast at birth? Is it not plainly from the lordlier place, and that which contains not only that nook and all thy household, but also the whole land whence the race of thy ancestors has come down even to thee, that thou callest thyself Athenian or Corinthian? Whoso, therefore, hath watched the governance of the universe, and hath learned that the greatest and mightiest and amplest of all societies is that which is composed of mankind and of G.o.d; and that from Him have descended the seeds not only to my father alone, nor to my grandfather, but to all creatures that are conceived and born upon the earth (but especially to reasoning beings, since to these alone hath nature given it to have communion and intercourse with G.o.d, being linked with Him through Reason),-wherefore should such a one not name himself a citizen of the universe? wherefore not a son of G.o.d?
wherefore shall he fear anything that may come to pa.s.s among men? And shall kinship with Caesar, or with some other of those that are mighty at Rome, be enough to let us live in safety and undespised and fearing nothing at all; but to have G.o.d for our maker and father and guardian, shall this not avail to deliver us from griefs and fears?
_But I have no money_, saith one; _whence shall I have bread to eat?_
2. Art thou not ashamed to be more cowardly and spiritless than fugitive slaves are? How do they leave their masters when they run away? in what estates do they put their trust? in what servants? After stealing a little to serve them for the first few days, do they not afterwards journey by land and sea, and make their living by one device after another? And when did ever any fugitive slave die of hunger? But thou tremblest and sleepest not of nights, for fear lest the necessaries of life fail thee. Wretched man! art thou thus blind? and seest not the road whither the want of necessaries leads a man? And whither leads it?
To the same place that a fever doth, or a falling rock-to death. Hast thou not often said this to thy friends? and often read aloud these things, and written them? and how often hast thou vaunted thyself that thou wert at peace about death? _Yea, but my dear ones shall also suffer hunger._ What then? Doth their hunger lead to any other place than thine? Do they not descend where thou descendest? Is there not one underworld for them and thee? Wilt thou not, then, be bold in all poverty and need, looking to that place whither the wealthiest of men, and the mightiest governors, yea, and even kings and tyrants, must go down; thou, it may be, an-hungered, and they bursting with indigestion and drunkenness?
How seldom is it that a beggar is seen that is not an old man, and even of exceeding age? but freezing by night and day, and lying on the ground, and eating only what is barely necessary, they come near to being unable to die. Canst thou not transcribe writings? canst thou not teach children? or be some man"s door-keeper?
_But it is shameful to come to such a necessity!_
Then first of all learn what things are shameful, and afterwards tell us thou art a philosopher. But at present suffer not even another man to call thee so.
3. Is that shameful to thee which is not thine own doing, whereof thou art not the cause, which cometh to thee without thy will, like a headache or a fever? If thy parents were poor, or made others their heirs, or are alive and give thee nothing, are these things shameful to thee? Is this what thou hast learnt from the philosophers? Hast thou never heard that what is shameful is blamable; and that which is blamable ought to be blamed? But what man wilt thou blame for a work not his own, one that he himself never did! And didst thou make thy father such as he is? or was it in thy power to correct him?-is it given thee to do this? What then? Oughtest thou to desire what is not given to thee? or to be ashamed if thou attain it not? Or hast thou been accustomed, in philosophy, to look to others, and to hope for nothing from thyself? Lament, therefore, and groan, and eat thy bread in fear, lest thou have nothing to eat on the morrow. Tremble for thy slaves, lest they steal, or run away, or die. Do thou live thus, now and ever, who hast approached to the name only of philosophy, and hast brought the precepts of it to shame, so far as in thee lies, showing them to be worthless and useless to those who adopt them; thou, who hast never striven to gain steadfastness, tranquillity, peace; that never waited upon any man for the sake of these things, but upon many for the sake of learning syllogisms; that never tested for thine own self any one of these appearances:-_Am I able to bear it, or am I not able? What, then, remains for me to do?_ But, as though all went fairly and safely with thee, thou abidest in the final part of philosophy,[1] that which confirms beyond all change-and wherein wilt thou be confirmed? in cowardice, meanness, admiration of wealth, in vain pursuit, and vain efforts to avoid? These are the things thou dost meditate how to preserve unharmed.
4. Shouldst thou not first have gained something from Reason, and then fortified this with safety? Whom sawest thou ever building a coping round about, and never a wall on which to place it? And what door-keeper is set on guard where there is no door? But thy study is how to prove propositions-and _what_ proposition? How the billows of false reasonings may sweep thee not away-and away from _what_? Show me first what thing thou art guarding, or measuring, or weighing; and afterwards the scales or the measuring-rod. Or how long wilt thou still be measuring the dust? Are not these the things it behooves thee to prove:-what it is that makes men happy, what makes things proceed as we would have them, how one should blame no man accuse no man, and fit one"s self to the ordering of the All? Yea, prove me these! _But I do so_, he saith. _See! I resolve you syllogisms._ Slave! this is the measuring-rod-it is not the thing measured. Wherefore now you pay the penalty for philosophy neglected; you tremble, you lie awake at nights, you seek counsel on every hand, and if the counsels are not pleasing to all men you think they were ill-counseled.
5. Then you fear hunger, as you suppose. But it is not hunger that you fear-you fear you will have no cook, nor n.o.body else to buy victuals for you, nor another to take off your boots, nor another to put them on, nor others to rub you down, nor others to follow you about, so that when you have stripped yourself in the bath, and stretched yourself out as if you were crucified, you may be rubbed to and fro, and then the rubber standing by may say, _Turn him round, give me his side, take hold of his head, let me have his shoulder_; and then when you leave the bath and go home you may shout, _Is no one bringing anything to eat?_ and then, _Take away the plates, and wipe them_. This is what you fear,-lest you be not able to live like a sick man. But learn how those live that are in health-slaves, and laborers, and true philosophers; how Socrates lived, who moreover had a wife and children; how Diogenes lived; how Cleanthes that studied in the schools and drew his own water.[2] If you would have these things, they are everywhere to be had, and you will live boldly. Bold in what? In that wherein alone it is possible to be bold-in that which is faithful, which cannot be hindered, which cannot be taken away. But why hast thou made thyself so worthless and useless that no one is willing to receive thee into his house or take care of thee? But if any utensil were thrown away, and it was sound and serviceable, every one that found it would pick it up and think it a gain; but thee no man would pick up, nor count anything but damage. So thou canst not so much as serve the purpose of a watch-dog, or a c.o.c.k?
Why, then, wilt thou still live, being such a man as thou art?
6. Doth any good man fear lest the means of gaining food fail him? They fail not the blind, nor the lame; shall they fail a good man? To the good soldier there fails not one who gives him pay, nor to the laborer, nor to the shoemaker; and shall such a one fail to the good man? Is G.o.d, then, careless of His instruments, His servants, His witnesses, whom alone He useth to show forth to the untaught what He is, and that He governs all things well, and is not careless of human things? and that to a good man there is no evil, neither in life nor in death? _How, then, when He leaves them without food?_ How else is this than as when a good general gives me the signal for retreat? I obey, I follow, praising my leader and hymning his works. For I came when it pleased him, and when it pleases him I will go. In my lifetime also my work was to sing the praise of G.o.d, both alone to myself, and to single persons, and in presence of many. He doth not provide me with many things, nor with great abundance of goods; He will not have me live delicately. For neither did He provide so for Hercules, His own son, but another man reigned over Argos and Mycenae, while he obeyed and labored and was disciplined. And Eurystheus was what he was-no king of Argos and Mycenae, who was not king even of himself; and Hercules was lord and leader of all the earth and sea, for he purged them of lawlessness and wrong, and brought in righteousness and holiness; naked and alone did he this. And when Odysseus was shipwrecked and cast away, did his need humble him one whit or break his spirit? But how did he go out to the maidens, to beg for the necessaries of life, which it is held most shameful to seek from another?
"Even as a lion from his mountain home, So went Odysseus trusting in his valor."
-_Odyssey_, vi. 130.
Trusting in what? Not in fame, nor wealth, but in his own valor-that is, his opinions of the things that are and are not in our power.[3] For these alone it is that make men free and unhindered; that lift up the heads of the abject, and bid them look rich men and tyrants steadily in the face. And this was the gift of the philosopher; but thou wilt never go forth boldly, but trembling for thy fine raiment and silver dishes.
Miserable man! hast thou indeed thus wasted all thy time till now?
CHAPTER IX.
THE OPEN DOOR.
1. For my part I think the old man should be sitting here, not to devise how ye may have no mean thoughts, nor speak no mean nor ign.o.ble things about yourselves, but to watch that there arise not among us youths of such a mind, that when they have perceived their kinship with the G.o.ds, and how the flesh and its possessions are laid upon us like bonds, and how many necessities for the management of life are by them brought upon us, they may desire to fling these things away for abhorred and intolerable burthens, and depart unto their kin. And this is what your master and teacher-if, in sooth, ye had any such-should have to contend with in you,-that ye should come to him and say, _Epictetus, we can endure no longer being bound to this body, giving it food and drink, and resting it and cleansing it, and going about to court one man after another for its sake. Are not such things indifferent and nothing to us?
And is not Death no evil? Are we not in some way kinsmen of G.o.d, and did we not come from Him? Let us depart to whence we came; let us be delivered at last from these bonds wherewith we are bound and burthened!
Here are robbers, and thieves, and law courts, and those that are called tyrants, which through the body and its possessions seem as if they had some power over us. Let us show them that they have no power over any man!_ And to this it should be my part to say, "My friends, wait upon G.o.d. When He Himself shall give the signal and release you from this service, then are ye released unto Him. But for the present, bear to dwell in this place, wherein He has set you. Short, indeed, is this time of your sojourn, and easy to bear for those that are so minded. For what tyrant or what thief is there any longer, or what court of law is terrible to one who thus makes nothing of the body and the possessions of it? Remain, then, and depart not without a reason." Some such part as this should the teacher have to play towards the well-natured among his disciples.
2. How long, then, are such injunctions to be obeyed? So long as it is profitable-that is to say, so long as I can do what becomes and befits me. Then some men are choleric and fastidious, and say, "I cannot sup with this man, to have to hear him every day telling how he fought in Mysia." _I told you, brother, how I went up the hill-then again I began to be besieged_.... But another saith, "I prefer to have my supper, and listen to him prating as long as he likes." And do thou compare the gain on both sides-only do naught in heaviness or affliction, or as supposing that thou art in evil case. For to this no man can compel thee. Doth it smoke in the chamber? if it is not very much I will stay, if too much, I will go out; for remember this always, and hold fast to it, that the door is open. _Thou shalt not live in Nicopolis._ I will not. _Nor in Athens._ I will not live in Athens. _Nor in Rome._ Neither in Rome. _Live in Gyara._[1] I will live in Gyara. But living in Gyara seemeth to me like a great smoke. I will depart, whither no man shall hinder me to dwell-for that dwelling stands ever open to all.
3. Only do it not unreasonably, nor cowardly, nor make every common chance an excuse. For again, it is not G.o.d"s will, for He hath need of such an order of things, and of such a race upon the earth. But if He give the signal for retreat, as He did to Socrates, we must obey Him as our commander.
CHAPTER X.
KNOW THYSELF.
1. If a man have any advantage over others, or thinks himself to have it when he hath it not, it cannot but be that if he is an untaught man he shall be puffed up by it. Thus the tyrant says, _I am he that is master of all_. And what can you give me? Can you set my pursuit free of all hindrance? How is it in you to do that? For have you the gift of never falling into what you shun? or never missing the mark of your desire? And whence have you it? Come, now, in a ship do you trust to yourself or to the captain? or in a chariot, to any one else than the driver?[1] And how will you do with regard to other acts? Even thus.
Where, then, is your power? _All men minister to me._ And do I not minister to my plate, and I wash it and wipe it, and drive in a peg for my oil-flask? What then, are these things greater than I? Nay, but they supply certain of my needs, and for this reason I take care of them.
Yea, and do I not minister to my a.s.s? Do I not wash his feet and groom him? Know you not that every man ministers to himself? And he ministers to you also, even as he doth to the a.s.s. For who treats you as a man?
Show me one that doth. Who wisheth to be like unto you? who becomes your imitator, as men did of Socrates? _But I can cut off thy head._ You say well. I had forgotten that I must pay regard to you as to a fever or the cholera; and set up an altar to you, as there is in Rome an altar to Fever.
2. What is it, then, whereby the mult.i.tude is troubled and terrified?
The tyrant and his guards? Never-G.o.d forbid it! It is not possible that that which is by nature free should be troubled by any other thing, or hindered, save by itself. But it is troubled by opinions of things. For when the tyrant saith to any one, _I will bind thy leg_, then he who setteth store by his leg saith, _Nay, have pity!_ but he that setteth store by his own Will, _If it seem more profitable to you, then bind it_.
--"Dost thou not regard me?"
I do not regard you. I will show you that I am master. How can you be that? Me hath G.o.d set free; or think you that He would let His own Son be enslaved? You are lord of my dead body-take that.
--"So when thou comest near to me, thou wilt not do me service?"
Nay, but I will do it to myself; and if you will have me say that I do it to you also, I tell you that I do it as to my kitchen pot.